


I'm bulletproof baby

by Frost_forzone



Series: Bangtan squad [1]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bangtan Squad, Dancer Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Hospital, Hurt Jeon Jungkook, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Jungkook, M/M, Multi, OT7, POLICEMEN AU, Police Officer Jeon Jungkook, Police Officer Kim Namjoon | RM, Police Officer Kim Seokjin | Jin, Police Officer Kim Taehyung | V, Police Officer Park Jimin (BTS), Sope, bts - Freeform, civilian min suga, commander jennie, hospitalised jungkook, inspired from in death series, jinkook - Freeform, namgi, namgihope, police officer lisa, police officer rose, reporter jisoo, vmin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frost_forzone/pseuds/Frost_forzone
Summary: He never saw him coming. There was a blur of movement. The guy was big—bigger than he'd imagined—and he was fast. He knew, in that finger-snap of time that he saw his face—eyes obscured by black sunshades—that he was in trouble. Terrible trouble.Instinct had him pivoting, reaching for the weapon he wore at his hip. Then it was like being rammed by a stampeding bull. He felt the pain—crazy pain—in his chest, in his face. He heard something break, and realized with a kind of sick wonder that the something was inside him.His mind stopped working. It was training rather than thought that had him pumping out with his legs, aiming for any part of his mass so he could knock him back far enough to give him room to roll. He barely budged him.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok/Kim Namjoon/Kim Seokjin/Kim Taehyung/Min Yoongi/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jung Hoseok/Kim Namjoon/Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin
Series: Bangtan squad [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993576
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. the walk home

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series of short stories involving our fav OT7 as policemen, following up on their adventures.

Jungkook stepped off the subway and stifled a yawn. It was still shy of eleven, but he was beat. At least he wasn't hungry on top of it, as Jimin had been as happy as him to break for food. His belly was nicely full of fried chicken strips—at least it had been billed as chicken, and she didn't want to question what else might have been inside the batter. Dipped into some sort of bright yellow sauce, they hadn't been half bad. Of course, they'd crapped out on everything else, but that was life with a badge. He flipped out her phone as she trudged up the steps to street level. 

"There he is." Jin's face, split by a big, welcoming grin filled the screen. "Heading home yet?"

"Just a couple blocks away. We covered a lot of ground, didn't pick anything up." 

"That's the way it goes." 

"You said it. Did you get any more packing done?"

"Baby, you're going to give me a really big sloppy one when you walk in the door. It's done, and we're ready to rock and roll out of here." 

"Really? Really? " He did a little skip-step on the sidewalk, thrilled of the fact that they can move into the new house sooner than they thought. "There was a lot left, you must've worked the whole time." 

"Well, I had the really big sloppy one as incentive."

"You didn't throw out any of my—" 

"Jungkook, I want to live. I didn't ditch anything, including your little stuffed bunny." 

"Mister Fluffytail and I go back. I'll be there in five. Be prepared for the sloppy one." 

"When it comes to sloppy ones, I'm a fricking Youth Scout." he laughed, stuffed the phone back in his pocket. 

Life was really good, he thought. His life was really good. In fact, just at the moment it was absolutely mag. All the little nerves about moving into a new place, with Seokjin —signing a lease, blending lives, furniture, styles, sharing a bed with the same guy for... well, possibly forever—were gone. It felt right. It felt solid. It wasn't as if he didn't irritate him cross-eyed sometimes. It was that he got he was supposed to. It was part of their thing, their style. He was in love. He was a detective. He was partnered with the best cop on the NYPSD—possibly the best cop anywhere. He'd actually lost three pounds. Okay, two, but he was working off number three even now. As he walked, he looked up, smiled at the lights glowing in his apartment—his old apartment, he corrected. 

Jin would probably come to the window any minute, to look out, wave, or blow him a kiss—a gesture that might've looked silly on another guy, but gave him such a nice little rush when it came from him. He'd blow one back, and wouldn't feel silly at all. 

He slowed his pace, just a bit, to give him time to come to the window, fulfil the fantasy.

He never saw him coming. There was a blur of movement. The guy was big—bigger than he'd imagined—and he was fast. He knew, in that finger-snap of time that he saw his face—eyes obscured by black sunshades—that he was in trouble. Terrible trouble. 

Instinct had him pivoting, reaching for the weapon he wore at his hip. Then it was like being rammed by a stampeding bull. He felt the pain—crazy pain—in his chest, in his face. He heard something break, and realized with a kind of sick wonder that the something was inside him. 

His mind stopped working. It was training rather than thought that had him pumping out with his legs, aiming for any part of his mass so he could knock him back far enough to give him room to roll. He barely budged him. 

"Whore." 

His face loomed over him, features obscured by the thick layers of mask, the wide, black shades.

It seemed time dripped, slow as syrup. That his limbs were weighed down like lead. He reared up to kick again—all in slow, painful motion—struggling to suck in air to a chest that burned like fire. Ordering himself to remember details. 

"Cop whore. Bangtan whore. Going to mess you up." He kicked him, so he doubled up in agony as his fingers fumbled for his weapon. Parts of him, separate parts of him went numb, and still he could feel the violent impact of his feet, his fists. He could smell his own blood. He plucked him up, as if he were no more than a child's doll. This time he heard—felt—something rip. Someone screamed. He felt herself hurled into the dark as he fired.  
———«»——————«»——————«»———  
Jin put on music. He'd sounded tired when he'd called, so he went for some of his k-pop shit. Since he'd finished packing the lot—including sheets—they were going to bunk in Jungkook’s sleeping bag. He thought he'd get a bang out of it. Last night in the old place, all cuddled up together on the floor, like kids camping out.

It was just totally frosty.

He poured him a glass of wine. He liked doing it for him, thinking how he'd do it for him when he caught a late night. It was the sort of things boyfriends did. He supposed.   
It was the first official cohabitation for both of them. They'd live, he decided, and learn.

He was thinking maybe he'd go to the window, toss kook out a noisy kiss as he walked up, when he heard the screaming. He raced out of the kitchen, leaping over packing boxes and across the living area to the window. 

And his heart stopped dead. He had his weapon in one hand, his communicator in the other, without any memory of grabbing either, and was running out the door.   
"Officer needs assistance! All units, all units, officer needs immediate assistance." He shouted out the address as he bolted down the stairs. 

Praying. Praying. He was half on the sidewalk, half on the street. Facedown, with blood, his blood, staining the concrete.   
A man and a woman were crouched beside him, and another was huffing toward them.

"Get away. Get away." He shoved blindly at the nearest.

"I'm a cop. Oh God, oh Jesus God, Kookie." He wanted to scoop him up, gather him in, and knew he didn't dare. 

Instead he pressed shaking fingers to the pulse in his throat. And felt his heart hitch when he felt the beat. 

"Okay. God, okay. Officer down!" He snapped it into his communicator. "Officer down. Require immediate medical assistance this location. Hurry, goddamn it. Hurry."   
He touched his hand, struggled not to squeeze it. Got his breath back. 

"Be on the lookout for a black or dark blue van, late model, heading south from this location at high speed." He hadn't seen it clearly enough, not enough. He'd only seen kook.   
When he started to strip off his shirt to cover him, one of the men pulled off his jacket. "Here, cover him with this. We were just coming out, across the street, and we saw..." 

"Hold on, Kook. Jungkook, you hold the hell on." Still gripping his hand, and seeing now he had her weapon in the other, he looked up at the people around him. His eyes went flat and cold as a shark's.

"I need your names. I need to know what you saw."   
———«»——————«»——————«»———


	2. waiting....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They're still working on him. It's going well. He's got a solid surgical team, Jin, and he's holding his own." He reached out, took his hands. "It's going to take a while longer. There was extensive damage, and the fact is he's undergoing more than one surgery. His vitals are good, and everything that can be done is being done." 
> 
> "How much longer?" Joon demanded. 
> 
> "Two, three hours more. At least. He's critical, but he's holding. Now I'm going to suggest you go down and give blood. It's something positive you can do. I'll go back in, observe. The head of the surgical team will give you more details when it's done, but I'll keep you updated as much as possible."

Namjoon couldn't sit. He wandered to the vending area, ordered up more coffee. He carried the thin, bitter brew to the window. Stared out as Jin had done. He ran over in his mind what he'd done, what was left to be done, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from stealing into surgery where he envisioned Jungkook's lifeless body on an operating table, and faceless doctors with blood on their hands to their wrists. 

Jungkook's blood. 

He spun around as he heard footsteps approaching. But it wasn't Yoongi or one of those faceless doctors. Tae hurried in, his stylish shirt rumpled from the long day, a flush of anxiety riding on his cheeks. 

He shot him a look, and when he only shook his head, he went straight to Jin, and sat—as Yoongi had—on the table. They spoke in murmurs, Tae's low and steady, Jin's thin and disjointed.

Namjoon circled around them, and into the corridor. He needed to know something. To do anything.   
When he saw Yoongi coming toward him, when he saw his face, his knees went to water. 

"He's not—" 

"No." 

Yoongi took the coffee from him because his hands had started to shake. "He's still in surgery. Joon..."

He set the coffee on a rolling tray so that he could take both of Namjoon’s hands in his. 

"Just tell me." 

"Three broken ribs. His lung collapsed on the way in. His shoulder's torn up, hip's fractured. There's considerable internal damage. His kidney's bruised, and his spleen—they're trying to repair, but they may have to remove it." 

God. "They—if they do, they can replace it. They can replace anything. What else?" 

"He shattered his cheekbone, dislocated his jaw." 

"That's bad. It's bad, but they can fix—" 

"There's head trauma. It's a concern." Yoongi ran his hands rhythmically up and down his arms, kept his eyes on him. "It's very serious." The attending physician he'd collared in ER had told him Jumgkook looked as if he'd been struck head-on by a bus. 

"They... they say his chances?" 

"They wouldn't, no. I can tell you they have a full team on him, and if there's a need for outside specialists we'll get them. We'll get whatever he needs." His throat was flooded, and closed like a dam. He managed a nod.

"How much do you want me to tell him?" 

"What?" 

" Jin." Yoongi rubbed his shoulders now, waited while he closed his eyes, gathered himself.   
"How much do you want me to tell him?" 

"All of it. He needs to know all of it. He—" He broke off, let himself cling for a moment when Yoongi drew him in.

"God. Oh God." 

"He's strong. He's young and strong and healthy. It weighs on his side. You know that." Broken. Shattered. Fractured.

"Go tell him. Tae's here, Tae's with him. Go tell them." 

"Come, sit down then." Gently, he kissed his forehead, his cheeks. "Wait with them. We'll all wait together." 

"Not yet. I'm okay." He eased back, but took Yoongi’s hands, squeezed them before releasing them. "I just need to settle down. And I... I need to contact some people. I need to do... things, or I'll go crazy." 

He drew him closer again, held tight. "We won't let him go."   
An hour ticked by, minute by endless minute. 

"We get any more?" 

Joon shook his head at Tae. He'd taken to leaning up against the wall outside the waiting area when he wasn't pacing. The waiting room had started to fill with cops. Uniforms, detectives, civilian drones who settled in to wait or stopped by for news. Their maknae was quite famous and well loved.

"His family—" 

"I talked them into staying put, at least until we know more." He sipped from another cup of coffee. 

"As soon as we do, I'll give them his status. I played it down, a little. Maybe I shouldn't have, but—" 

"Nothing they can do, for now." 

"Right. If they have to get here, Yoongi's already made arrangements for transpo. How's Jin?"

"Hanging on by a couple of greasy threads right now, but hanging all the same. Helps to have other cops around." 

His eyes went to slits. "He's meat, Joon. There's not one badge in the city who won't put in the time to track him now he came after one of ours." 

"He's meat," Joon agreed. "And he's mine." 

He stayed leaning against the wall, only turning his head when he heard the clip of heels. He'd been expecting them. Jisoo streamed down the corridor, two uniformed officers at her back. Good, was all Joon thought. He needed the distraction of going a round with someone. But Jisoo stopped in front of them, laid one hand on Tae's arm, the other on Joon's. 

"How is he?" 

Friendship first, Joon realized. When it came to the wire, friendship crossed the line first. 

"He's still in surgery. Nearly two hours now." 

"Did they give you any idea when—" She stopped herself. "No, they never do. I need to talk to you, Kim." 

"Talk." 

"Alone. Sorry, Tae." 

"No problem." He slipped back into the waiting area.

"Is there somewhere we can sit down?" Jisoo asked.

"Sure." Joon simply slid down the wall until his butt met the floor. And looking up, sipped his coffee. After a tap of her foot and a shrug, Jisoo sat on the floor beside him. 

"As far as Jungkook's concerned, I won't air anything you don't want aired. That's for him." 

"Appreciated." 

"He's my friend, too, Kim."   
"I know he is." Because his eyes stung, he closed them. "I know it." 

"You give me what you want out there, and I'll get it out. Now let's take a minute to discuss the black widows you've put on my tail." Joon looked over at the uniforms, satisfied they were—per his orders—Lisa and Rose. 

"What about them?" 

"How do you expect me to work with a couple of storm troopers in my shadow?" 

"That would be your problem." 

"I don't—" 

"He went after him, he could go after you. We were on-screen together. Little push," he murmured.

"A little push. I didn't expect him to go for Kook." 

"He was supposed to go for you." 

"Makes more sense, goddamn it. I'm primary. I'm in charge. But he goes for my partner. So he could go after you. Working through the lineup, I get that now. Wants me to see he can take out my people under my nose. Wants me to know it before he comes for me." 

"I can follow the dots, Joon, but it doesn't address how I'm supposed to gather data and report same when I come as a trio, and two of that trio are badges. Nobody's going to talk to me."

"Deal with it," Joon snapped. "Just fucking deal, Jisoo. He's not going to put his hands on another friend. He doesn't get the chance for another." 

Jisoo studied the icy rage on Joon's face, and said nothing. She leaned back, took the coffee out of Joon's hand, sipped.

"Tastes like warm piss," she commented, then sipped again. 

"No, maybe a little worse than that." 

"It's not so bad after the first gallon." 

"I'll take your word," she decided, and handed it back. "I don't want him to get his hands on me. I do want to mention I know how to take precautions. Particularly after my own romp in the park with a homicidal maniac a year or so ago. And I haven't forgotten who got me out of that. I'm also smart enough, and have a healthy enough sense of self-preservation to accept that there might be times I need someone to take an interest in my welfare. So I'll deal, Joon." 

She shifted, looking for comfort on the hard floor. "And actually, the one on the left is kind of hot." 

"Try not to have sex with one of my officers when she's on duty." 

"I'll try to restrain myself. I'm going to go see Jin for a minute."

She nodded. Joon considered pacing again, or just closing his eyes and pushing himself into oblivion. Yoongi came out before he'd decided, crouched in front of him. 

"It might be an idea to go down, get some food—other than the slop available through vending—for the horde in there." 

"Trying to give me something to do with myself?" 

"Both of us." 

"Okay." 

He straightened, took Yoongi hand to pull him to his feet. "It just seems like we should know something more by now. It just seems like—" He looked toward the elevators and saw Jimin and Hoseok rushing in. 

"News?" Hoseok demanded. 

"Nothing. Nothing for over an hour now." 

"I'll go into surgery." Jimin squeezed Hoseok's arm. "I'll scrub up, get a look for myself." Afterall, Jimin did have a fan club in the hospital with his puppy eyes.

"That'll be better," Namjoon said when Jimin dashed off. "We'll know more, and that'll be better." 

"What can I do?" Hoseok gripped Joon's hand. "Give me an assignment—something."

He looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. The friendship deal came in a lot of layers, he thought, a lot of measures. 

"Yoongi and I were talking about getting some food for everybody." 

"Let me take care of that. I'll just go let Jin know we're here, and I'll take care of it." Hoseok says kissing Yoongi and him.

"It keeps rippling, doesn't it?" Yoongi watched Hoseok move through the groups of cops to where Jin stood. "All the people, the relationships, the connections. Lieutenant." He framed his face with his hands, kissed him gently on the forehead. 

"It wouldn't hurt you to find a flat surface, close your eyes for a few minutes." 

"Can't do it." 

"I didn't think so." He waited. And felt he was at the center of a vortex as she contacted or was contacted by Commander Jennie and Jungkook's family. Cops came. Some went, more stayed. EDD and Homicide, uniforms and rank. 

"Get Jin," he murmured to Yoongi when he spotted Jimin. 

"Keep it low. I don't want the whole department out here when he fills us in."

Bracing herself, she stepped forward to meet Jimin. 

"Yoongi's getting Jin, so you only have to say it once." 

"Good." He wore scrubs now, pale green and baggy. "I'll go back, observe, but I wanted to give you what I could." 

Yoongi came out with Jin, with Tae and Hoseok. The first circle, Joon supposed, of all those spreading ripples. 

"Are they finished?" Jin said quickly. "Is he—" 

"They're still working on him. It's going well. He's got a solid surgical team, Jin, and he's holding his own." He reached out, took his hands. "It's going to take a while longer. There was extensive damage, and the fact is he's undergoing more than one surgery. His vitals are good, and everything that can be done is being done." 

"How much longer?" Joon demanded. 

"Two, three hours more. At least. He's critical, but he's holding. Now I'm going to suggest you go down and give blood. It's something positive you can do. I'll go back in, observe. The head of the surgical team will give you more details when it's done, but I'll keep you updated as much as possible." 

"Could I go in with you? If I scrubbed—" 

"No." Jimin leaned in, kissed Jin’s cheek. 

"Go down, give blood. Do the positive, think strong thoughts. Those things matter, I promise."   
"Okay, I'll go down now." 

"We'll both go down," Tae said, then jerked his chin toward the waiting room. "We'll go down in shifts. Time we're finished, you'll have more cop blood in this place than you know what to do with."

———«»——————«»——————«»———

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and don't forget to let me know if you like it.  
> And i swear i'll make kookie stop suffering.......in just a few more chapter 😏

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, My mind like to hurt kookie too much. But it will get better, I promise.  
> Anyways, come talk to me,   
> twitter id- https://twitter.com/crabby_moon98  
> I could use more friends like my mom always tells me  
> borahae


End file.
